


Love like Snow

by triggerlil



Series: Draco, Harry, Rain, and White [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy In Love, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Marriage Proposal, One Big Happy Family, POV Draco Malfoy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Winter wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerlil/pseuds/triggerlil
Summary: “Hello, you stupid git,” Draco choked out at the altar, and Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with tears.“You look gorgeous, you absolute bloody wanker,” Harry laughed under his breath as they took hands.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Draco, Harry, Rain, and White [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671466
Comments: 14
Kudos: 135





	Love like Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username](https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username/gifts).



> For This_Time, who never fails to light up my life when they comment on my fics, and who commented a glorious idea for Draco and Harry's winter wedding (based off of a proposal fic I wrote, which is earlier in this series, and is by no means necessary to get this story, but might add some nice context!) I have also created a [Drarry Wedding Playlist!!!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7MjFgfFHN1dqIpq5RG3k2k?si=6WbYKLzaQXSZq8BMqApQNw) That I hope will go nicely with this fic and the three drabbles that come before it <3 
> 
> Once again, thank you This_Time, I love you!!!

It was raining that day too, in a way, flakes of snow drifting down slowly. The world was white, which meant something like peace and innocence, and meant something entirely different to Draco. White was the colour of his mother and father’s hair, of his favourite flowers in their garden, of the peacocks that strutted around their yard. It meant family and loyalty, and there had been a moment where he had detested it. He had let dark circles form under his eyes, worn black turtlenecks and slacks, pretended he didn't care about colour. Like he didn't care about summer shirts and vanilla ice cream, because it had meant something like pain then, flashing white-hot behind his eyelids.

Now he didn’t have to pretend, holding out his hand for the snowflakes that settled like frosted kisses on his palm.

“Are you ready?” His mother asked, squeezing his hand, the lace of her sleeves tickling his wrists, her smile soft. He tried to swallow, but his throat seemed stuck, so he just nodded, and they began to walk. The interior of the atrium was done up in white and light blue, glittering icicles hanging from the walls, and Draco wasn’t sure how a room made to look like winter could feel so warm. Astoria had offered her manor for the wedding, a house that neither Harry nor Draco had ill memory of, but which could hold their number of family and friends.

They began to walk down the aisle, Draco pulling his gaze up from the dark green carpet swirling with silver, to meet the faces of their guests. Their smiles blended together, happiness and pride, but certain faces making themselves clear to him—their wedding party. Tears streaking Hermione’s cheeks, Ron trying to pretend he wasn’t crying too, Pansy holding it all in. They looked brilliant in each outfit that Draco had picked, Hermione in light pink, Ron wearing classic black, Pansy in Slytherin green. He slowly took in everyone else; Ginny in a deep red suit, Blaise stoic as always wearing green and black, Teddy in black but his hair bright turquoise, Astoria in violet. Merlin, how could Draco have ever pretended he didn’t like colour?

And there he was, Harry stood at the makeshift altar in a white suit, contrasting beautifully with his tan skin, hair as messy as the day they first met, glasses the same wireframes he'd always had. Draco felt his heart expand in his chest, a rapid thing that threatened to outgrow him, to explode forth in love. This was the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Merlin, he was going to cry.

“Hello, you stupid git,” he choked out at the altar, and Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with tears.

“You look gorgeous, you absolute bloody wanker,” Harry laughed under his breath as they took hands. Draco was wearing a white suit with light blue accents, a deep plum calla lily sticking out of his lapel pocket. Harry sporting a classic white lily, his suit accented in green. It was all very complimentary. 

A dreamy voice broke through, delightfully bubbly; “Friends, we are gathered today to commemorate a beautiful moment in Draco and Harry’s lives.”

Luna's blond hair fell to her waste in golden spindles, her radiant yellow dress circling her in various frills, smiling suns hanging from her ears. Her cheeks were flushed, blue eyes bright, as she held out her hands.

“In the years they’ve spent together, their animosity has grown to friendship, friendship grown to love, and now, on this brumal winter’s morning, they take their first steps into marriage.”

Draco and Harry smirked at each other, it was just so Luna, and it was just so lovely.

“Though their wedding day may come and go, their love will forever grow, and may we as witnesses support them in that love. The grooms would like me to thank you all in joining them today, as you have all in some way played a part in their love.”

Draco caught a glimpse of his mother, tears glistening in her eyes, and had to work not to start crying again himself. It was extra hard for her, his father glaringly absent. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been invited, he had just chosen not to show up, but he wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t going to let his father’s antics ruin the day.

"Marriage is not the be-all and end-all of a couple's love, but for those who choose, it is a way of telling the person you love that you won't be going anywhere. No matter how dramatic one of them is—"

Draco smiled sheepishly.

“—Or how hot-headed the other can be.”

Harry grinned in embarrassment. 

“It is a powerful commitment to make to another person,” she said, her voice light with love, “and now, the vows.”

Draco commenced crying the moment he began reading his own, and he didn't stop through Harry's. Tears kept falling readily, trickling down his cheeks, his voice wobbling as he tried to express how happy Harry made him feel. That no matter what happened, they always came back to each other. That no matter what happened, it was still them, always there for each other.

When Harry got halfway through his, he started crying too. Little hiccups of tears, and at that point, most people in the audience were crying, and Harry just loved him so much, and Draco loved Harry so much, and it was still snowing, beautiful and only slightly cold. Cold enough to remind Draco where he was, what he was doing—Marrying the love of his life. Every time a flake of snow landed on his skin, melting into the warmth, a tiny pinprick of cold, it was another wonderful arrow through his heart. _Harry. His husband. His love. Who loved him. Harry. Harry bloody Potter. Harry fucking bloody Potter who was going to be his husband and oh my god he was marrying Harry Potter Merlin what the Fuck._

Suddenly Pansy was behind him, Ginny behind Harry, and there were rings in their hands. Two simple bands, one silver and one gold. Ginny was grinning ear to ear, Pansy’s eyes were beginning to glisten, but she wiped at them quickly.

“I’m so happy, Draco,” she whispered into his ear, squeezing his shoulder, and Merlin, if Pansy was happy, then he was over the moon.

“Rings of silver are especially potent at warding off lovers’ quarrels, rings of gold preserve the honeymoon phase, and,” Luna grinned mischievously, “are extra good at warding off nargles.”

Some things never changed.

“And did you know,” she added, “that they’re worn on the ring finger because it is the only finger with a vein running directly to the heart. It’s much more romantic when you know.”

She rummaged in her dress pocket for a moment, and then pulled out her wand, familiarly sleek.

“Now, please repeat after me; I give you this ring as a symbol of our love.”

As Luna spoke, a white silk cloth began to flow from her wand, wrapping itself around Draco and Harry’s wrists. It began to glow, the light growing stronger, searing pleasantly; in the same way the snow burns your bare hands.

_“Come on, Draco,” Harry yelled behind him, but Draco didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to talk. “It’s not what you think!”_

“For today and tomorrow, and all the days to come.”

_“Then what is it?” Draco asked, whipping around, water spraying off his hair, rain drenching his robes._

“Wear it as a symbol of our eternal magic—a bonding of our cores—and a symbol of what we’ve promised on this day.” 

_Harry had caught up to him, and they stood face to face—the sound of rain pounding down, cars running through puddles, and the blood in their ears the only noise._

“And when you feel my magic course through you—”

_Draco felt the fight drain out to him as Harry dropped to his knees, hair plastered to his forehead, glasses speckled with rain._

“—know that my love is present—”

_“Draco bloody Malfoy,” Harry said, and Draco could already feel emotions welling up inside him at those three words. Trust Harry to ruin his entire argument, to turn him into a weeping mess just by saying his name. He had always loved how it rolled off Harry's tongue, how he could make it mean anything. When he said it the first time it had hurt, using Draco's name as a weapon, and then they had moulded it together. They had made it something softer, saying it in a breathless whisper, something hushed and unspoken. Now this—two names, one man, and he said them with such fervour that Draco knew that whatever came next, Harry meant it._

"—Even when I am not."

The ribbon gave one final squeeze and then dissolved into their skin, leaving behind no sign it had ever been there but the memories.

Luna turned to Draco, smiling encouragingly, her face lit up like a summer’s day.

“Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take this wizard, Harry James Potter, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

"I do," he said and felt a pleasant burning sensation travel up his arms.

“And do you, Harry James Potter, take this wizard, Draco Lucius Malfoy, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

When Harry spoke, his voice was thick, his eyes glassy with tears; “I do.”

“Then you may now kiss the groom,” Luna smiled serenely.

Harry pulled Draco towards him like lightning, like a snowstorm, pulling him off his feet and wrapping him in his arms. He found Draco's lips and pressed them together, smushing his face into Draco’s with all his might. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t that sexy, or that everyone was watching, or that they’d have all the time in the world in their hotel room. Draco wanted to be as close to Harry as possible, he grabbed his face, pulling him closer, tighter.

“Shows over, mate!” George yelled from somewhere in the aisles, and Harry pulled back, spinning Draco around.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband!” Luna squealed, breaking form and stumbling forward to sweep them up in a hug, her blond hair smelling like gardening and oranges.

“Oy!” Ron yelled, “save some for the rest of us!”

And suddenly everyone was on them, Pansy and Blaise, Hermione and Ron, Theo and Teddy, Astoria and Ginny. They were enveloped in an enormous group hug, a handful of children now getting out of their seats and running around, everyone hugging and happy.

“We’re husbands!” Harry yelled, taking out his flower and putting it behind Hermione’s ear, Draco doing the same for Astoria. 

“We’re married!”

“I can’t believe it!”

"What do you mean you, oaf," Draco said, pulling on his suit playfully and capturing his lips in a biting kiss. "I can believe it."

"Oh, really?" Pansy smirked, "you were a nervous wreck a few days ago."

“Harry was the same,” Ron said, “kept asking me if he looked as nervous as he felt. I said mate, Draco won’t bite, unless you want him too—”

“Shut up, Ronald,” Hermione sniffled, hitting him on the back of the head, “you’re ruining the moment.”

Draco didn’t care, Ron could say whatever he pleased, nothing could ruin this. When everyone had finally laid off a bit, and everyone began walking through the atrium to the dining hall, Draco felt as if he was walking on air.

At dinner, he watched happily as everyone talked and had a good time, feeling insurmountably loved. Ginny and Pansy were snickering like fools, no doubt talking about him and Harry, and George was showing something to Ron under the table. Other Malfoy's were there, old family members that had been willing to watch two wizards get married.

Narcissa smiled over her wine glass, “I’m so proud of both of you boys,” pushing a strand of her hair away as she took a sip.

“It means a lot to me that you’re here,” Draco said.

“Of course, Draco,” she said, reaching out and squeezing his and Harry’s hands in turn. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Harry sniffled beside him, and Draco laughed into his own wine, “don’t start us all off again.”

“I’m trying not to,” Harry choked, “but look at you! My husband!”

The snow had begun to fall again, languidly landing on people's hair and disappearing into magic. Draco smiled up at it, the real snowfall outside visible through the glass ceiling. It had been snowing that day, too, in a way. Raining like the world had been crying for them, happy tears and lightning laughs.

_Harry pulled a green velvet box out of his jumper pocket, revealing a simple silver band with an unpolished diamond embedded in the center. “You know we’re meant to be together, you git, so will you just please say yes and marry me?”_

Draco laughed now, watching Harry blink away a fleck of snow clinging to his eyelashes. He leaned in, kissing the laugh off Draco’s face, cheeks flushed with happiness.

How had Draco ever convinced himself he didn’t love Harry? That he didn't love snow, and his mother, and colour, and the absence of colour. He loved it all, but especially Harry. He could picture a life with him, their past and future tied up harmoniously, everything somehow working itself out. He could see it now, rainy days in their cottage home, drinking coffee quietly together, working in the freshly damp soil, and later, snowy evenings with hot chocolate, finding warmth in each other. Surrounded by people who loved him, how had Draco ever convinced himself that he was unwanted, unloved?

The snow fell around them as they drank and toasted to the future, and Draco felt he might drown in the love of it all, Harry’s hand resting protectively on his thigh, breath hot on his neck, whispering in his ear, on the dance floor, stars twinkling above their heads and deep into the night. Draco loved Harry, and was loved in return, and how had he ever thought otherwise?

_Harry grinned nervously, a look that went straight to Draco’s heart, "Yes! Yes, Harry, you wanker, yes.”_


End file.
